I Thought Everyone Was Like This
Last night I was setting my alarm for this morning and when the display got to the time I wanted to get up, I hit the button an extra time and instead of 6:45, it read 6:46. I sighed, and began pressing the buttons again, going through the whole procedure until it got back to 6:45. I released the buttons and pushed the switch to set the alarm. When Tay came in the room I asked him if he was setting his alarm and he went one digit past the desired time, would he leave it or redo it. He looked at me a little oddly, and said he’d leave it.

I’ve done this numerous times before while setting my clock and if I accidentally mess up the time, I can never leave it alone. If I’m really tired, I’m prone to make the mistake a few times, and I’ll sit there resetting the clock until I get it right.

My next question to Tay was if he was at the gas station getting gas and his goal was to get $20, and he didn’t ease up on the pump in time and it rolled over to $20.02, what would he do and he said he’d leave it. As would most people I’m sure.

Me? I start the pump again and let it reach the next ’round’ number. Which would probably be $21.00, and which I will sometimes concede to, but quite a few times I’ll go right to $25, making sure I get it exactly right that time around. For some reason, and if I can control it, I like nice, even amounts coming out of my bank account or being put onto my Visa. It’s why, when I’m tipping in a restaurant, I’ll always round up. For example, if the bill is $24.38 I won’t just add on $4 and make it $28.38. It’ll always be at least $29 if not $30.

I tried to think of other areas in my life where I’m weird this way. I do the normal things like a lot of people (checking that the door is locked or the stove is off repeatedly) but I’ve also worried excessively while out that I unplugged the iron or my straightener. Once, when visiting my parents, I drove all the way home from Bedford because I wasn’t convinced that I had unplugged the iron. Now, when I unplug things, I make a production out of it, either I make a big show of folding up the cord and putting it away or singing a little rhyme so that the action stands out in my mind.

If I’m handwriting a note to someone, I might rewrite the note if I’m not happy with my handwriting. I’ve unwrapped presents and rewrapped them because I’m not happy with how the wrapping looks. At work, I constantly insist on doing things myself because I know that if I don’t, I won’t be happy with the outcome and I’ll dwell on it.

I’ve been known to iron pillow cases when company is coming and when I’m in Body Pump class and we’re setting up our risers underneath our steps, I can’t have 3 black risers and 1 gray. They have to be all black or all gray, or in a pinch, I could settle for 2 of each.

I don’t know if these thing stem from me being compulsive, neurotic, a perfectionist or a control freak. Maybe it’s a combination of them all, I don’t know but I do know that the littlest, most minute details have to be right or it throws me off which doesn’t make sense with the rest of me. You’d think from the above description that my house would be spotless or that I’d never leave the house without complete hair and makeup and proper attire but my house is rarely spotless and I’m often out running errands with a ballcap on and no makeup.

But if I need to stop for gas while I’m out, you can be sure that I’m getting the exact amount of gas that I want.

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